


Rhythm of the Island

by tarradiddle



Category: DCU - Comicverse
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Poetic, Present Tense, Sisters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-10-27
Packaged: 2017-11-17 03:56:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tarradiddle/pseuds/tarradiddle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Written for comicdrabbles prompt: Dancing)</p><p>Diana is home on Themyscira for a celebration.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rhythm of the Island

We dance barefoot tonight; our feet strike the earth to the drum. The fire flickers to the drum. The waves on the shore echo the drum.  
  
We circle the bonfire, while others watch and clap or chant. And oh, I am glad I have come home, because this is home: sisters hand to hand, calloused fingertips over smooth palms, hearts beating together with the drum. The rhythm changes, and we break off along the sand, shifting from a circle into a ragged group of women racing silently through the moonlight.  
  
The dark entrance to the forest path opens like a cave mouth before us, and we veer into it, hardly breaking stride. We fall into single file, and I am second behind Euboea, tonight as swift on land as in the water. I listen eagerly, over our breathing, over the sound of feet striking the path, and I hear a distant rustle. Euboea hears it too, and I see her smile as she turns left, leading us down a narrower trail.  
  
A burst of leaves and we are among the herd, and the deer are running down the path with us. Euboea sprints to come alongside the leader, as I pace the deer closest to me. The only music now is that of breath and blood, hooves and feet on the leaves and loam. As we come to a fork, we turn back toward the beach, and the deer turn with us.  
  
Others have banked the fire while we were gone; it burns still, but low and flickering. We run directly toward it. The doe who has been running with me shies away from the coals, going around as I leap across, but I hear cheers behind me, so someone has been blessed tonight. The deer, their part done, return to the edge of the forest, while we women complete a wide arc that brings us back to the fire and the music. Sacred does leapt the fire with both Xanthe and Mala, so they form the center of the new dance.  
  
We circle Xanthe and Mala nine times for luck while those not dancing sing to Artemis on this, Her night. Finally the ritual ends but the celebration goes on. Firelight and moonlight mingle and glitter in the hair and eyes and laughing smiles of my sisters. For joy, for life, for each other, we drum and we dance.


End file.
